Bugga's Room

I found myself in the Bug's room today.  We usually don't spend much time in there.  It is pretty spare, because we don't have toys in his room, his play space is out in our living space.  His bedroom is for sleeping. ;)

At any rate, sometimes we do go in there, just to add some spice to life I guess.  I know, we're pretty crazy right?!

And I laid on his bed today and I looked around and felt almost overwhelmed by all the meaning and love and warmth we have stuffed in there.  Most everything in his room has ties to people we love and who mean the world to us, just like Bug himself. ;)

There's the mobile of intersecting globes with figures from various cultures of the world hanging from it that I got at a little fair trade shop in B-Spa (that's Ballston Spa, NY) with my wonderful friend Megan, who I still miss terribly.  And a blanket she knit for the Buggie while he was still "Peanut" in my belly.

There are 4 Memaw-made blankets as well, all made with evident skill and lots of love.  And 3 piggy banks, one from Memaw and Papaw Jackson, one from our dear Lindsey and Brandon, and one from Aunt Kim and Uncle Kirk.

The furniture in his room includes a bed and dresser that were in my room growing up and a rocking chair that came from Great Grandma and Grandpa Jackson's shop.  Plus a blanket from my amazing former co-worker Bonnie (again, given when Bug was "Peanut") and another from our dear friends the Stewarts (or at least picked out by them, when they did our registry for my shower, HAHA; forgive me I can't remember if it was actually Justin and Tara who gave it to us in the end or not).  

Yes, the boy has an outstanding number of blankets, because when they are given or made by someone we love, I can't imagine doing anything else with them. ;)

The crowning glory has to be the one blanket that hangs on the wall.  It is a small baby quilt, the top was cross-stitched and embroidered by my Mom.  It hangs right above his bed.  She never got to meet Bugga.  Never got to hold him, to trace the contours of his newborn face with her fingers, never got to coo at him and "ooh" and "ahhh" over his newborn grunts and wiggles.  She never got to celebrate his firsts or delight in his laughter.  So many "nevers."  Yet, I know she's here with him in a different way.  I'm reminded of it every night I put him to bed when I look up at the blanket she poured love and hope into years ago, not knowing there were more grandchildren in her future, not knowing she wouldn't get to be with them like she wanted.  

She's with him in all the ways that I am a product of her and her love and guidance.  She's with him through who she made me, both in her being my Mom and through her loss, because it shaped me in countless ways I can't fully understand or express.  This love and loss reminds me every day of the importance of my role as his Momma, and it shapes the decisions I make within that role.

Yes, I laid there and I took stock.  I smiled.  I laughed.  I cried tears of a mourning that will never fully leave, but just ebb and flow like so many things in life.  Then my son got up on the bed and sat next to me, and I cried tears of pure happiness over the simple blessing of him.  There, with Bug next to me, and all the love and promises and hope surrounding us, I found myself laughing again.  

And why not?  Buggie was laughing after all. ;)